He Hates Blood
by bacatlover
Summary: Oneshot. Sasuke's always had two goals in mind. And if he gets them?


All he really wants is a family, people to love him. He really wants his team to be his family, but fear keeps the ability to love locked away. Because everyone he loves dies. Is butchered by the only man he can see. His brother, his entire being attached to that man, that killer. And even as he swears to kill him, he knows he'll still hurt. He will cry as he watches the blood drain from that man's body. That man so distant and cold and hated. He wants to hate him beyond any comprehension, beyond his team's comprehension. And as much as he wants to stay, as much as he wants to grow and mature with his team, he can't. He can't because to get close is to kill them. His brother will discover his "friends." His brother doesn't hate. To hate is to dislike something, rather, the man simply does what he can to reap havoc…

Sasuke doesn't hate, but it's because he can't. He tries. Tries _so_ very hard as a pink haired girl confesses her love to him; as she threatens to call out and ruin his escape. Tries _so_ very hard with the chidori blazing in his palm, flying towards his best friend, ready to rip through flesh and bones; ready to shatter bonds. Tries _so_ very hard as he peers down into his brother's glazed ebony eyes with his kunai pressed to the delicate flesh of his throat, a drop of blood seeping from the pierced skin. It's always about blood; Itachi loves blood. Sasuke has come to fear it…

Orochimaru shows him blood repeatedly, blood from everywhere, from anyone. Villagers' blood, shinobi blood, a friend's blood, sucked into the snake sannin's vile mouth as a collection of sorts. Orochimaru shows Sasuke his blood, when they train, when he's angered, when he wants to see the boy squirm, aching to remove the shuriken embedded in his flesh. But, it was what he sought, the power for revenge, to free himself of fear…

Shinobi have rules. And there is a rule that Sasuke always abides by. Shinobi do not show emotions. Sasuke is aloof, beyond the reach of irrational emotions. It is, essentially, Sasuke. It _was _Sasuke. Now Sasuke is a collection of tears, bending over, cradling his brother's body, longing for the love he hadn't returned for so long, perhaps never had. He has to know, has to acquire an answer from his only family; in his mind he has already lost the others, he has already lost the girl he refused to love, the boy he refused to fully accept as his equal, the man he refused to let take a similar place to him as his father had. They were gone, they would never love someone as vile and contaminated as him…

"Ni-san… why? Tell me why?" His raspy, tear-laden voice asks.

A gurgled laugh slips past Itachi's lips before he gives his answer.

And Sasuke finally releases his grasp, tears freely spilling down his face to drip onto pale and lifeless skin, his kunai now pressed deeply into skin and bone and blood. Sasuke's tears merging with Itachi's blood, flowing and seeping into the earth below them…

Sasuke heard the approach of two people, surely more Akatsuki coming to support Itachi. Sasuke sat, already defeated by his brother's words, ready for death, ready to surrender to any escape from this agony…

"Sasuke!" The blonde shouts, startled and halting…

"…Sasuke… kun…" the blonde's pink-haired companion says, worry plastered on her face. And even as Naruto stays frozen in place, she steps forward, always reaching out for this one's broken soul. "Sasuke-kun…" And then she's squatting, leaning closer and closer to what she's always known to attack when confronted with empathy or anything of semblance to pity…

"It's alright, Sasuke-kun… we're here; it's alright." And then, she's pulling him into her embrace despite his rigid body, despite everything. His eyes still streaming, he relents, fisting his hands into her shirt, pressing his face to her throat. Why? Why was she here? Why was she holding him while hating him? She was so soft, so pliable and gentle, stroking his hair as if he were a child. Just like mother used to do…

She sent soothing waves of chakra through him, healing the gnashes, healing his flesh. _If only she could mend my heart…_

Noticing the dampness on his shoulder, confusion settled over him. Was it raining? Pulling back with some difficulty since Sakura's grasp was unyielding, he looked at her face. It was wrought with pain and worry and salty tears…

"Come home with us, Sasuke-kun. You've done what you wanted, come home… We'll take care of you." Oddly, what he once would have found annoying and a hindrance was appealing, her words seemed to make that foundation of hatred shudder, pieces breaking off and tumbling into an abyss…

And then Naruto is beside them, talking softly, not at all like his usual boisterous self. "Come on, Sasuke. Sakura-chan wouldn't lie. We'll always be there for you, we're a team. Always will be…"

Together, two people he believed to be truly out of reach, they lift him, supporting him as they move, as he follows where they lead. At this point, he doesn't care if he never sees Orochimaru again, if he never sees Itachi or another Akatsuki member again, if he never sees blood again…

Eight years later and he still has yet to go on another mission. When presented with the opportunity to join the shinobi ranks again, he declines, saying he couldn't possibly be trusted with Orochimaru's curse seal still resting at the crook of his neck. Half the time he's too scared to sleep in the same bed with his wife. Scared that he'll wake up one night strangling her, inhaling the gentle scent of her pink hair and snapping her fragile neck between his blood-stained hands. Itachi's blood, it's still burnt into his mind, that image of blood smeared onto and into his skin. And he still sees it, even after Sakura's gentle ministrations and affection, even after the late nights spent talking with Naruto, someone he'd almost call his brother had he not known his real one. To call Naruto his brother would be an insult and only serve to increase Sasuke's fear of betrayal and abandonment…

She lied to him. She lied just like his brother. And now she was dying; his own child the cause of it. Her small body just couldn't handle it, Tsunade was telling him, seeing the blankness of his face, the same face that had held such love for the woman who was bleeding out in the single bed of the hospital room. He just couldn't look at her; couldn't watch as her skin turned from its usually fleshy peach to this sallow grey. The child was dead already, a still born, Tsunade was informing him. Why couldn't she be quite? Why did she have to ruin his hopes? Now everything was in vain. Sakura's life, the child's life, even his life. He would have no other woman as his wife. And _she_ was dying knowing that. Why was everyone in his life so selfish? Couldn't they understand? He just wanted to _love_ them; he wanted them to _love_ him. But no, they all just died; they all died because of him. Why couldn't he just _love_?

* * *

This has the possibility of a continuation... but I doubt it... I can't seem to write happy oneshots, I don't know why. Hmm, this was probably written in response to all those that hate Sasuke. I get angry when people actually HATE a character. There is always more to them than a person can know; reasons beyond knowledge. Something like your whole family being killed by your brother isn't just something you can shrug off and say lateeda about. Anyways, I guess this is kind of my grasp of his feelings. If anybody REALLY wants a continuation of this... well... I expect some ideas from them... hehe 


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